


a good reason to go

by m_feys



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study, Family Issues, Gen, Gon is there but he's baby, Introspection, Pregnancy, Trans Male Character, based on 2011 anime, trans headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_feys/pseuds/m_feys
Summary: At this moment, more than any other, he knows he was never made for this. But he would not, for one second, ever, call Gon a mistake.
Relationships: Ging Freecs & Gon Freecs, Ging Freecs & Mito Freecs, Ging Freecs & OC, Ging Freecs & his Grandmother
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	a good reason to go

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, a few things to note.
> 
> First, I wrote this as a trans masc person who's deeply invested in Ging's character. I think he's really interesting and I enjoy writing him, but I know people have plenty of reason to dislike him. So please be aware this work does portray him as a negligent/irresponsible parent (because he is) and it also portrays him sympathetically and it's entirely from his perspective (but it's written in 3rd person).
> 
> Also, if you're trans masc and uncomfortable with portrayals of trans men becoming pregnant, don't read this. It's not especially visceral in my opinion, but it is an important part of the story.
> 
> Additionally, this is entirely based on the 2011 anime, because I have yet to read the manga and part of it is set after the ending. And the title is from All Alright by Fun. 
> 
> Finally, I hope you enjoy! But please, don't clown in my comments. I don't want any comments about how 'cute' and 'soft' I wrote Ging because I will end up telling you off. However, I do enjoy thoughtful and nice responses from readers ^^
> 
> P.S. If you're a freak who ships gross shit (you know what I'm talking about) go ahead and x out the tab and just stop that shit. I don't want you reading my stuff and I don't want you near me in any capacity.

It wasn't that he didn't think things through. He could think hundreds of possibilities ahead. It made him great at chess, too bad he found the game dreadfully boring.

It was more that he just wasn't careful about any of it. Running into problems was half the fun, right?

He listened to instinct more than anything else, he ate when he needed to, slept when he felt like it, and all other desires were taken care of in more or less the same manner.

He was long gone by the time he realized what had happened and if he was being honest, this was not one of the possibilities he'd considered. Though, it wasn't as if he often dwelled on thoughts of what _could_ happen, only ever when he was hunting. When he wanted to snare his prey.

The understanding hits him when he's on his knees on the bathroom floor wretching into the toilet. He knows then, without confirmation. He hadn't been taking his testosterone for the past month, it was a hassle to deal with when he was far out on a job. Intuition tells him he shouldn't be using it again for several months and his intuition tends to be right.

He doesn't hate being around people. In fact, there are some people he particularly enjoys spending time with. But even those select few he can only be around for a certain amount of time. He spends long stretches alone without contact, out across the wide world. Right now, sick alone in a hotel room, he has never felt less like being around people.

In the months he spends alone, at first the change is unnoticeable, but there's a point where he knows people who knew him would ask questions he doesn't have the answers to.

He doesn't remember the other man, not his name. He remembers a handsome brown face with a charming dimpled smile. He wasn't especially tall, and he had the build of someone who works hard for their living, well-muscled but not slim. He doesn't intend to ever see him again.

He couldn't tell anyone why he doesn't end the pregnancy. He never planned to be a father and he still doesn't want to be one. He can't imagine being a good father, its just not in his nature. He's never been a nurturing man. But maybe something in him wants to experience this, to know what it's like. He's always wanted to feel everything he never had before, see sights that were new, do things that had never been done. It's the _selfish_ part of him that drives him to this, and that's no good when he's responsible for another person. He does it anyway, as he always does.

He doesn't mind the loose clothes or odd cravings, he follows his whims anyway, the pains are nothing more than annoying. The most bothersome thing is his chest. As swollen and tender as the rest of him.

Most people just see it as one of his usual extended absences. No-one contacts him.

The doctor knows him, so she doesn't give him any strange looks for the stray hairs on his chin or the depth of his voice. He wouldn't trust many people with this sort of thing, so she was handpicked.

* * *

"Have you been taking jobs?" She asks sharply, not even looking at him directly but he's sure she already knows the answer.

"Every now and again."

"You need to take it easy, there's a person inside you," Omanita reminds him seriously.

"My kid can handle it," he shrugs, sliding his eyes away from her.

" _Your kid_ is still in development and your body is going to start stifling you if you don't stop yourself."

"Don't worry, my feet were killing me I've been holed up for the last week," he grumbles.

She smirked lightly, shifting the ultrasound across his stomach. "I will say, he's very healthy, keep taking care of him and page me if anything happens. Try not to move around too much, I might be a hunter but I don't enjoy hunting down my patients," she advised, wiping away the smear on his stomach, "or my friends," she added, eyes softening.

He snorted, "I'll buckle down then, doc, I'll take some time out of my busy schedule just for you."

"Just for _him_ ," she counters.

"For him," he agrees slowly, feeling strangely uncomfortable about it.

* * *

Gon wakes him up, not for the first time, and certainly not the last. He'd been dozing when he felt it, the jolt of movement. He ran a hand across the rounded swell of his torso.

"Stop kickin' me, go to sleep," he groused, letting his eyes drift back closed as he smoothed a hand across his belly.

"Where did you even get all this energy?" He mumbles drifting off again.

* * *

He doesn't have any anesthetic, of course not, he lets things run their course like he always does. It tears him apart and puts him back together.

Omanita's steady voice coaches him through the rhythm, push, breathe, push, breathe. He grips the sheets and grits his teeth and not long after there's a screaming child in the world, bloodied from his first fight for his life.

He doesn't quite have a name yet, he hadn't bothered contemplating it, it was better to find something spontaneously. Besides, he'd come too early, because of course he had. Kicking and screaming and wholly impatient, that was his son.

"Do you want to hold him?" Came Nita's voice sometime later, it could have been seconds and it could have been hours. The baby in her arms was swaddled and clean now, eyes closed and taking soft sleepy breaths through his mouth.

"You know, I think that's the quietest he's been in his entire life," Ging spoke immediately, tired mind moving slower than his mouth.

She laughed.

He opened his arms, wordlessly. She handed him the baby, positioning his arms carefully behind his back and securing his hand to support his head. It felt like he was off balance. He stared down at the infant in his hands, feeling exhausted.

"C-can you take him back," he requested, stuttering out the words.

She did and he lowered his head to avoid her concerned gaze as she took his son once more.

* * *

A screaming child was his absolute worst nightmare he had discovered.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He groaned as he picked his way out of bed and across the room in the dark.  
  
"Stop crying," he pleaded with the baby as he hesitantly reached for him, the crying didn't stop and he wanted nothing more than to run away.

"I'm here, stop crying," he spoke again, lifting him with shaking hands now, he held him how Nita had shown him, head secured and back supported.

"C'mon," he whined, shooshing him a few times and rocking him back and forth in his arms. He didn't smell like he needed changing and he'd been fed only an hour ago.

"What do you want? What could you possibly want?" He muttered desperately. The wailing cries didn't stop, not for a long time, not until Ging had curled up on the floor, baby tucked between his knees and his chest, hands pressed over his ears.

* * *

"I can't do this, I wasn't meant to be a father."

Omanita raised her eyebrows at him. "Ging, where is Gon right now?" She asked sharply.

"He's at the house I'm renting, he's fine, he's sleeping."

"You're not just supposed to leave a baby alone," she advised, whispering furiously. She flashed a desperate smile towards the other patient she'd been attending to before Ging barged in, "If you could excuse me for one moment," before shoving Ging out into the empty hallway.

"Who let you back here?" She demanded, voice low and heated.

"No one," he answered, brows furrowed but otherwise seemingly unbothered.

She dropped her head in her hands, of course, of course, he'd just waltzed in.

"Ging, I _cannot_ have this conversation with you right now."

"Nita, I'm not the kind of person who can take care of him."

Something in his voice made her stop. It was something raw and vulnerable and something entirely unlike his usual aloofness.

She lifted her head to look him in the eye, but his gaze was lowered now, eyes shadowed in the stark lights of her office.

"Ging, you brought that child into the world. Which means you now need to do the best you can for him, if that means giving him up, that's something you have to decide."

"But... He's _my_ kid," he says it in that terribly selfish and desperately loving way she's seen from every parent she's worked with.

She frowns. She knows he's already thought of all of this and is desperately searching for another answer, one that hurts less, or one that's easier, one that's less terrifying. 

"Do you want to be responsible for him from now on? Do you want to be the one who fosters his development? The one to wipe away his tears? The one who has to be patient when he's not? The one to take care of him when he's sick? Are you ready for that reality?"

He doesn't respond, instead drops into a crouch and holds his head in his hands, clutching at his hair.

She kneels beside him slowly, staring at him sternly, knowing the struggle he's going through and the importance it holds.

"It wasn't ever fair for me to do this, was it?" He asks and if she cared to makes guesses she would think he might be crying.

"I think you took it more lightly than you should have, but you can't go back on it now. If you want to continue being a part of his life, you could find someone willing to let you visit. If you already know someone who might take him in that may work best."

He heaved a sigh from his chest with those words. "There might be someone," came the whisper.

He looked up again, catching her eyes once more. "Do you want to say goodbye to him?"

She smiled at him softly. "Yes, I would like that."

* * *

He goes back to Whale Island for the first time in ten years with a fourteen-month-old balanced in the crook of his arm.

Their grandmother hugs him tight around the neck before she sets him off to do chores he's missed.

Mito eyes him suspiciously for the first few days but takes to Gon like a charm.

He admits he has no idea how to raise him, they agree. 

At first, he doesn't intend to leave, not permanently, not for another ten years. At first.

Mito yells at him upon seeing Ging leave Gon to crawl around outside as he fishes. She promptly scoops up the baby and holds him in her lap to sit next to the flowers and admire the butterflies.

When he cries she rocks him and sings him to sleep. When he's hungry she gets him to eat without spitting most of the food back out.

He still changes him, he can handle the more disgusting parts of parenting, its the loud sounds and the constant need for his presence that he can't deal with.

He asks her how she's so good at it.

"Well, if you'd bothered to write even once," she starts sharply, chin tilting defiantly as she looks away from the cooing baby in her lap to glare at him. "Maybe you'd know that Tsetsu-san had a baby four years ago and I was the one to care of her when they were working at the docks."

Mito was not the same kid he remembered. Of course not, she was grown now, the same as he was, but she had always been a strange one, desperately clinging to him, but just as solitary as he could be at times. It seemed she had molded that into a life for them, taking care of their property on her own time and being with their grandmother when she needed someone to lean on. She was still just as bull-headed as she'd always been. Before it was following him around and now it was staring him down, keeping eagle eyes on him and Gon.

The only time he sees that softer vulnerable side of her, or rather, the only time she _lets_ him see it, is a quiet moment in Gon's room.

He's watching him sleep at the moment, it's making him tired, but for unfathomable reasons, he feels the need to stand beside his crib, hands folded behind his back, simply watching over his idle son.

"How did it happen?"

"Hm?" He responds, not quite turning to look at her where she's standing in the door, watching him watch.

" _Him_. How did he happen?" She asks, stepping closer now.

It's not a question anyone has asked him yet and it's one he had hoped never to answer.

He shrugs. "It just did, I can't remember the guy's name if that's what your asking."

"And you didn't realize until months later?" She wondered, she always had that well of curiosity in her, always nosey.

"No," he clarifies, still looking down at the baby as he speaks, "I knew the first time I got sick."

At that she freezes, he doesn't have to be looking at her to know it.

"You were scared to give it up?" She asks, so softly. And for a moment he doesn't understand what she's asking.

When he does he takes another moment to contemplate what to say. "I... wanted to have him," he admits slowly.

"Oh," she answers softly and for the first time since he'd returned, she doesn't regard him with astute glances from the corner of her eye, or unending suspicion, instead she just stands by his side and watches over Gon with him. It's nice, he thinks.

* * *

When he takes his first job back as a hunter after Gon, she challenges him to a shouting match. He's never been one for shouting, he'll raise his voice if he wants to be heard, but he doesn't tend to bother much beyond that, especially when it seems to weigh his heart down like this.

"You're just gonna leave!? He's not even 17 months yet!!" Mito seethes, hands clenched into fists at her side.  
Gon is upstairs in his crib, but faintly Ging can catch his wailing cries start up as soon as the screaming begins.

"It's just one job, I'll come back," he says. His eyes dart up the stairs towards where he knows the sound is coming from. A depth of guilt twists in his gut at how badly he wants to leave this house right now. "I know you'll take good care of him while I'm gone," he reasons.

Their grandmother is heading up the stairs now to comfort the baby, good, she heard it too. A swell of relief blooms in him, knowing he doesn't have to go any closer to that sound. The heavy guilt continues to weigh him down.

"That's not the point, Ging!" She yells, drawing his attention back to her in quick succession, "you're his _father_!" She takes a frustrated breath, he knows she's close to tears and that's worse than the yelling, "How long?" She demands.

"It's not a long job, a few months maybe," he supplies, it was a short trip for a hunter like him. His work often ran for far longer.

"A few months!?" She screams, outraged.

"I'll be back before you know it," he tries helplessly.

" _Yeah_ , we won't even notice," she hisses furiously. He has nothing to say to that. "Just leave then!" She shouts once more but spins away from him this time and he knows she's hiding her tears. He leaves.

* * *

When he gets back, Gon has spoken his first words, and he's started identifying colors.

"What was his first?" He asks.

Mito barely looks up at him, "he said 'doggy'," she speaks voice low, rubbing their hound's head, this dog was new to him, she's not the one they had growing up. She sounds bitter, almost like she doesn't want to tell him. He knows why.

It's almost scary, having been apart for so long but still being able to identify her reasoning so easily. If he'd been here, he'd know, that's why she's so angry.

They don't talk much for the next month, Ging finds himself avoiding the house more and more, if just to escape the tension there. Sometimes he eats and sleeps there, and helps with Gon where he can, under Mito's sharp scrutiny. Other times he roams the island and finds refuge in the trees.

Maybe if he were the sort of stubborn where he fiercely wanted to prove her wrong things would be vastly different. But he's always been deeply set on the things he wants to do. Nothing short can satisfy him.

But that's still not the entire truth if he were being honest with himself, he's just so scared of it all.

Family, and commitments, and people who need him. He never came back here before because he thought it might be better if they forgot him altogether. He would never be around enough for them and he couldn't tie himself down for so long. He was made to roam and he was scared to be boxed it. He wanted to see everything new and he'd already missed out on hearing Gon's first words. Would he be there every time those big eyes caught on something new? Would he be there when he rode a bike, when he learned to fish, when he wrote his name?

He did not consider himself a sentimental man, but these thoughts he refused to acknowledge belied him. What's he doing here if not to experience everything new, everything in the eyes of a child? He just wants to be near but he's afraid to get too close. If he drifts far enough away he won't have to.

* * *

"Planning to come back?" He freezes on the threshold. He'd known she was there, of course, but he'd thought she was asleep in her chair like she did on days when she didn't feel like trekking up the stairs.

"Grandma," he acknowledges, still not turning to look at her, even with the cover of darkness between them. She always was a smart woman, part of the reason he couldn't come back. There was Mito's anger, and Mito's suffocating love keeping him away, but his grandmother could pick him apart in her sleep. In fact, maybe she _had_ been asleep. She would always understand how selfish he was being.

"Ging," she speaks, waiting on an answer.

He scrambles to remember the question before blurting out an answer, "Yes, I— I'm going to come back."

"Good," is all she says for a moment and he can hear her gently rocking in her chair now. "If you keep coming back she might give you a chance with him," she informs him simply.

His mouth is dry. He hates all the uncomfortable feelings in his gut and he knows more than anything he just wants to be free. Free of all this guilt and these people who need him, need him to keep coming back. 

He steps out the door without saying goodbye, closing it softly behind him and he strays into the forest and settles down at the top of one of the larger trees. The sea of stars above him is calm as always, he wants to be up there.

* * *

He takes his second job after Gon a few more months down the line. Mito is staring at him furiously. Her hands are balled into fists at her side and if he didn't know her better he might think she was ready to start swinging. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and her face is blotchy red, she looks livid, but more than that, she looks heartbroken.

All he can do is blink at her. Their grandmother is watching silently to the right.

"If you're gonna leave again, just don't bother coming back!!" She shouts at full volume, he would shrink away if he were someone else. He only stares her down.

"Ok," he answers softly. And he goes about preparing what he needs.

"Nothing to say?" She asks, voice broken and watery, he hates when she sounds like this. He remembers carrying her back from the forest after their first dog died, he remembers hearing her ask in that watery sad voice, much smaller than it was today, if he ever woke up. She wanted to know if he was back to faithfully guarding the porch. He told her no, he was gone, and he sat with her as she wailed and he let her cling to his arms.

"Do you want me to say anything?" He asks in a measured tone, he knows anything he says would only incite more anger and she's just itching to drag this on.

She always was like this, she would pester him and tug on his sleeves and scare the fish away just to get his attention. It had infuriated him and it had always worked.

Her lip curls at this response too and he knows it couldn't be avoided. " _No!_ Why don't you just shut up and slink away like you always do, then I won't have to see your sorry face anymore!" She spits the words like acid, he wants to run. He stands and takes them instead, and it stings.

"I need to say goodbye to Gon," he admits reluctantly.

Mito allows him time to prepare but she seethes in the corner. He can feel her aura trapped within her, fiery and certain. It would have plenty of potential if she unlocked it. But so much for that, he thinks.

The tape is not the first thing he leaves with him, what he does before he leaves is look down at the baby in the crib, the child who surely won't remember him. And he leaves the only words of wisdom he has.

"Listen to Mito," he instructs the baby, "Don't follow me, but explore as much as you can. Look for what you want from the world and appreciate what you find on the way."

And he goes, his only request for Gon's upbringing is that they tell him he has a mother. He knows they'll take good care of him.

His grandmother watches him with round disappointed eyes, Mito cries and folds herself into Gran's shoulder. He doesn't look back.

* * *

He looks back, often. He thinks of Gon and what he'll grow up to be, what power he'll hold. He wants to help him grow from afar if he can.

The tape is the first thing he makes for him.

He's making it easy on the kid by telling him he has a mom. It's not something he's gonna talk him through if he doesn't ask. 

So the only time he admits the truth is the tape he gifts him. If he really wants to know, he can.

Otherwise, he tells him the truth as much as he can, he's not gonna be around Gon to help him grow up, he at least deserves to know why. His father is a selfish man.

The game gets away from him, friends he's made in the journeys past and just as many new ones gathered around him to create something that wasn't real in the real world. Something that could make a hunter stronger and maybe have fun along the way.

He can't stop thinking about Gon as he makes it, he enjoys the journey, but the truth is, he hopes someday Gon will play it.

It's years before he's completed this and he records him his second message through the memory file. Stores both carefully and seals the box with nen, its the only thing he sends back to Whale Island, requesting they give it to him when he becomes a hunter. He's sure Mito will hate it even more for being so presumptuous, but call it a gut feeling. He knows his son.

* * *

The guilt only bites at his heels when he's talking to Gon, with the tape, and the game, and right now when he's standing in front of him, any other time and he can outrun it. 

His eyes are big and shining with tears. Ging doesn't reach out and wipe them away, he doesn't try to soothe those pains, he doesn't reach out at all. At this moment, more than any other, he knows he was never made for this. But he would not, for one second, ever, call Gon a mistake. 

And Gon isn't crying over him, he's blubbering something about Kite, it's a relief more than he likes to admit— he's not broken up about him. In a way, he can pretend Gon is any other kid. So he can talk to him the way he has learned children will listen. He tends to avoid kids, but encountering them is nearly unavoidable. And he treats them seriously and nonchalantly as anyone else, it's the best way to get them to hear your advice he's found. Look them in the eye and tell it to him straight.

Friendship is the one kind of relationship Ging can keep going. Because good enough friends don't care when he disappears for long stretches, good friends are willing to share a smile and a flask when they meet again. 

Family, partners, romance, and that sort of commitment were never his thing. He never knew how to maintain it. Maybe one day he can be friends with Gon, but he knows he'll never be his dad. He's decided he's ok with that, he's proud of what Gon has become without him. He thinks he has plenty of people to thank, not that he's ever been so formal. If he was, Mito would be first on his list. 

He wonders how quickly she would rip up a letter from him. He decides to write one anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos appreciated!!


End file.
